You remember a few years ago in New York, we had the doorman strike? They have a union, in the fancy buildings, and they went out on strike. Now you would think, if any group of people would not wanna demonstrate what life would be like without them, it would be doormen. (as belligerent doorman) "Let's see how they do without us!" There's no doorman, people open the door, they walk in, it's... you know. Who's gonna walk out next? The guys who clean your windshield at the traffic light, with the dirty rag? (as window washer) "We demand shorter yellows, and longer reds!"

[Lobby, Mr. Pitt's Building]

(Jerry comes in from the street and walks toward the elevators. A doorman, stood reading a newspaper on a counter, objects. There's an undertone to the doorman's voice - unfriendly, contemptuous, even an edge of menace.)

DOORMAN: Whoah, whoah, whoah. (rises and turns to Jerry) May I help you?

JERRY: (indicates with his thumb) Yeah, I'm just going up to see Elaine Benes.

DOORMAN: Oh, I get it. Why waste time making small talk with the doorman? I should just shut up and do my job, opening the door for you.

(The doorman wanders back to his newspaper. Jerry shrugs and pushes the button for one of the elevators. There's a pause as he waits for it to arrive. The doorman stands holding his paper, staring at Jerry, with the unfriendly smile on his face. Jerry throws a smile of his own back. The elevator is still not moving. Jerry tries to break the uncomfortable silence.)

JERRY: How 'bout those Knicks?

DOORMAN: Oh, I see. On the sports page...

JERRY: Yeah.

DOORMAN: ...What makes you think I wasn't reading the Wall Street page? Oh, I know, because I'm the uneducated doorman.

(Jerry turns away and looks at the indicator, hoping that the elevator will come and rescue him.)

[Street]

(George and Kramer walk along together.)

KRAMER: So, you think your parents'll get back together?

GEORGE: I hope so. I can't take him living with me much longer. He makes this kasha, it stinks up the whole house.

(Kramer has noticed a 'Sightseeing Tour' bus on the street, with a German flag painted on the door. It gives him an idea. Kramer steps in front of George and brings them to a halt.)

KRAMER: Hey, George, stick 'em up.

GEORGE: What?

KRAMER: For these German tourists. Pretend that I'm robbing you.

GEORGE: Why?

KRAMER: So these people can go back home and tell their friends they saw a real New York mugging. It'll give them a thrill.

(Kramer pushes his hand deep into a pocket and raises his arm, giving the impression that he has a gun concealed beneath his coat.)

KRAMER: Awright, hands up, porky!

(On the tourist bus, the occupants attention is attracted. They look out the window at the 'mugging'. George has his hands up, and Kramer is feeling through George's pockets with his free hand.)

JERRY: Well, it's almost six now. Can't we just wait til he goes home?

ELAINE: (unhappy) I...

JERRY: We'll still make the movie.

ELAINE: (accepting) Okay, okay.

(Jerry and Elaine sit on the couch to wait. They simultaneously look at their watches.)

[George's Apartment]

(George and Kramer wear their jackets, ready to leave. Frank is in a shirt, mixing a bowl (of kasha?) as they talk.)

GEORGE: What'd you do today, dad?

FRANK: Today, I went record shopping in Greenwich Village. I bought this record, but I can't seem to find the hi-fi.

GEORGE: I don't have a hi-fi.

FRANK: Didn't I give you my old record player?

GEORGE: (leaving to the bedroom) I gave it to Cosmo.

FRANK: Cosmo? Who's Cosmo?

KRAMER: I'm Cosmo.

FRANK: Well, I want it back. I wanna listen to that cha-cha record.

KRAMER: (little dance) One-two, cha-cha-cha.

GEORGE: (coming back in) Alright, alright. Can we go out and eat?

FRANK: (putting down the bowl) Lemme change my shirt.

(George and Kramer stand together, by George's computer. Frank unfastens his shirt and opens it. Kramer and George turn and see Frank's torso exposed as the shirt comes off. Kramer's eyebrows go up in surprise. George looks horrified, and puts his hand to his mouth like he's going to vomit.)

[Mr. Pitt's Apartment]

(Elaine still sits on the couch. Jerry is standing at the window, holding the curtain open and looking down at the street.)

ELAINE: Jerry, it's six. (claps her hands) Let's go.

JERRY: Uh, that doorman's still milling around outside. He's very peculiar.

(The phone on Mr. Pitt's desk rings. Jerry is nearer, so he moves to answer it.)

ELAINE: No, don't...

JERRY: (picks up phone) Hello? (listens) Oh, hi Mr. Pitt.

(Elaine looks exasperated.)

ELAINE: (quietly) Give that to me.

ELAINE: (taking the phone) Hello Mr. Pitt. How's Scotland?

(Mr. Pitt sits in a comfortable chair in Scotland.)

MR. PITT: (concerned) Elaine, are you having a party?

ELAINE: A party. Oh no, that was just my stupid friend Jerry.

(Jerry is peering out of the window again.)

JERRY: Alright, he just left. We can go.

MR. PITT: (stern) Because there's to be no entertaining while I'm gone.

ELAINE: Believe me, we're not entertained. We were just leaving. (to Jerry) Oh, can you grab those empty bottles for me.

(Jerry picks up a paper sack of empty bottles from the floor by the desk.)

MR. PITT: (resolute) Well, you better catch the later show, because I need to know what's in the mail.

ELAINE: Alright. (to Jerry, upset) I can't go.

(Jerry gives an irritated glance upwards and goes to leave.)

[Lobby, Mr. Pitt's Building]

(Jerry emerges from the elevator (without the bottles). There is a new doorman on duty, who gives Jerry a friendly nod and smile and holds the door open for him. Jerry nods and smiles back, and leaves.)

[Mr. Pitt's Apartment]

(Elaine is kneeling with the phone. She has Mr. Pitt's mail spread out on the floor in front of her and is going through it for Mr. Pitt's benefit.)

ELAINE: ...Uhm, the new Time magazine. The new People...

MR. PITT (O.C.): (piqued interest) Oh, who's on the cover?

[Street]

(Jerry walks down the street. He passes a doorway, where stands a familiar figure. The doorman still has the attitude problem.)

DOORMAN: Hey, buddy.

JERRY: (surprise) You? Wh...what're you doing here? You work at this building too?

DOORMAN: Ah, sure. Poor doorman has to work two jobs to put food on the table for mother and baby. (supercilious) No, I live here. That's okay, isn't it?

JERRY: So you work all day as a doorman at one building. Then you come home and stand outside your own building?

DOORMAN: You got a problem with that?

JERRY: Look, I'm not going in your building. I really don't have to talk to you. Goodbye.

(George and Kramer sit one side of a booth, facing Jerry. George is wearing a purple shirt. Kramer's eating a sandwich heartily. George looks as if he might never want to eat again.)

GEORGE: My father opened his shirt...

JERRY: Yeah, and?

GEORGE: (nods to Kramer) Tell him, Kramer.

KRAMER: (matter of fact) He had breasts.

(George nods, Jerry has a confused expression. Kramer keeps on eating. Jerry thinks for a moment, George can't even look anyone in the eye.)

JERRY: What d'you mean, breasts?

GEORGE: (waves his hands) Big breasts!

JERRY: So what? A lot of older men have that.

KRAMER: No, not these. These were real hooters.

(Jerry pulls a face at the thought.)

GEORGE: I was throwing up all night. It was like my own personal Crying Game.

KRAMER: Well, maybe you're gonna get 'em too, George.

GEORGE: (worried) Yeah, that's right. What if it's a genetic thing, like father like son?

JERRY: But, your father's not bald.

GEORGE: No, no no. That skips a generation. The baldness gene comes from your grandfather.

JERRY: Then I suppose the bosom gene comes from your grandmother.

(George snaps his finger and points, in agreement with Jerry. He continues to look deeply worried.)

KRAMER: You know, Frank can't be too comfortable with those things clanging around. He should wear something for support.

GEORGE: You mean like a bra?

KRAMER: A bra is for ladies. I'm talking about a support undergarment specifically designed for men.

JERRY: Boy, that brain never stops working, does it?

KRAMER: I tell you, I'm gonna go noodle with this.

(Kramer leaves. A buxom blonde woman in a purple shirt is making her way to the door, as she passes the booth she notices George.)

BUXOM WOMAN: (indicating her shirt with her finger) Hey, we're twins.

GEORGE: (thinking she means the breasts) What!!

BUXOM WOMAN: Our shirts. They're the same.

GEORGE: Oh, Huh, imagine that.

(The woman smiles and leaves. Elaine enters Monk's and comes over to Jerry. She's not happy about something.)

ELAINE: (to Jerry) What? What'd you say to the doorman?

JERRY: What? Nothing.

ELAINE: (sitting beside Jerry) He claims that you followed him home, and started harassing him.

JERRY: What has this guy got a personal vendetta with me?! What'd I do to him? 'Cos I asked him about the Knicks?

ELAINE: Hey, did you make the movie?

JERRY: No.

ELAINE: You wanna go tonight? You can pick me up.

JERRY: Alright. Can we go to a later show, so he's off his shift when I come by?

ELAINE: Ugh. So now we have to rearrange our lives to avoid the doorman?

JERRY: Yes, we do.

(Elaine looks over at George, wondering what he's doing. George is holding the neck of his shirt open, and is peering down the inside of the garment at his chest. As Elaine and Jerry watch, George jiggles his upper body, to see if there's any movement.)

ELAINE: What is wrong with George?

JERRY: He's... trying to get something off his chest.

(George ends his experiment, and rises to leave. He digs in his wallet to pay the cheque.)

GEORGE: (agitated) Alright, I gotta try and talk my mother into taking him off my hands.

[Lobby, Mr. Pitt's Building]

(Jerry enters from the street, only to find the unpleasant doorman standing inside the lobby. The doorman's demeanour hasn't improved.)

DOORMAN: I traded shifts with the night doorman. He had some personal affairs to attend to. You see, my fellow doorman and I watch out for each other. We don't stab each other in the back, like people in your world.

JERRY: (trying to ease the tension) Look, I don't want any trouble. I don't have a doorman in my building. I guess I'm just not used to talking to them. I'd really just like to be friends.

DOORMAN: Yeah, I just wanna run and get a beer. I'll be back in a minute.

JERRY: Wha...? Wai... wait a second. What do I do?

DOORMAN: It's not brain surgery. You open the door for people who live here. And, if they don't live here, don't let them in. (takes off his hat) Here. (putting it on Jerry's head) Wear that.

JERRY: Oh.

(The doorman goes out the door. Jerry takes off the hat, which he's not thrilled about wearing, and leans on the counter. The doors of an elevator open, and a young woman pushing a baby buggy emerges and heads for the exit. After a second, Jerry realises his job. He puts on the hat and opens the door to allow the woman to leave. AS he opens the door, a man enters and strolls past Jerry into the elevator vacated by the woman.)

MR. GREEN: (indignant) Of course I live here. I've lived here for twenty years. Now, if you don't let me in, I'm going to call the police and have you arrested.

(Jerry steps aside and motions for the guy to carry on into the building, but he looks resentful about it.)

JERRY: (after the guy) You think you're better than me?

[Bus]

(George is riding the bus. As the vehicle travels along the street, it rattles, shakes and shudders like all poorly maintained public transport. George is strap-hanging, and he gets a worried look as he feels there might be some movement on his chest. He puts his hands on his chest, then notices another guy on the buss looking at him. Self-consciously, George pulls his coat tight shut, and crosses his arms firmly.)

[Lobby, Mr. Pitt's Building]

(Jerry is standing behind the counter, reading the doorman's newspaper. A FedEx delivery guy enters with a package, lays it on the counter and scans a barcode on it with a little device he takes from his pocket. Jerry watches, disinterested. There is a brief pause, as the FedEx guy waits for something.)

DELIVERY GUY: (indicating) You have to sign for it.

JERRY: Oh, right.

(Jerry takes the FedEx guy's pen and signs for the package, then goes back to the newspaper.)

DELIVERY GUY: (with a smile) Hey, how 'bout those Knicks, huh?

(Jerry gives the guy a hostile look, much as the doorman might.)

JERRY: (dismissive) Yeah, yeah, yeah.

(The FedEx guy leaves, looking a touch unhappy at Jerry's attitude. Jerry puts the paper down, and goes to have a look through the door. There's no sign of the doorman, so Jerry tosses the hat onto the counter, dismissing it with a wave of the hand as he moves to the elevator.)

[George's Apartment]

(Frank opens the door, to reveal Kramer, carrying a large portable record player.)

KRAMER: Hey. I uh, brought back your record player, huh.

FRANK: Thank you, Kramer.

KRAMER: Yeah.

FRANK: (indicating a chair) Put it over there.

(Kramer dumps the record player on the chair. Frank goes to the couch, not moving very easily.)

(Frank's cha-cha record is playing loudly on the record player. Frank and Kramer are half-dancing to the music, as Frank tries on the bro. Kramer stands behind Frank, making adjustments to the garment. The door opens and George and Estelle enter. They see the dancing twosome, and the undergarment, and look stunned.)

(Farkus offers his hand. Kramer shakes, and then takes his prototype and moves toward the door. Frank then shakes Farkus' hand.)

FARKUS: (sympathy) Frank, I wanna tell you how sorry I am to hear about you and Estelle separating.

(Kramer hovers behind Frank, waiting to leave.)

FRANK: Oh, thank you, Sid, but that's all in the past. I'm ready to move on.

FARKUS: (thoughtful) I've always been very fond of Estelle. Beautiful woman. I uh, I hope you don't think uh, this is out of line, but would it be okay with you, if I were to ask her out?

FRANK: (anger) You wanna go out with my wife?! (rage) Where do you get the nerve to ask me something like that?!

FARKUS: Oh, no, Frank, I was just saying...

(Kramer tries to calm Frank down.)

FRANK: I know what you're saying, and I know what you're thinking!!

FARKUS: No, Frank...

FRANK: C'mon, Cosmo, I'm not doing business with this guy.

(Frank storms out in a rage. Kramer gives Farkus an 'I'll calm him down' look and follows Frank out the door.)

KRAMER (O.C.): Frank!

[George's Apartment]

(Frank and Kramer have just arrived, to find George packing a suitcase.)

GEORGE: Jerry took the couch back.

FRANK: He took it back? Didn't you tell him I was using it?

GEORGE: Oh, I pleaded with him.

FRANK: Where am I supposed to sleep?

GEORGE: Well, I took the liberty of packing your things. (gleeful) Mom's coming to get you.

KRAMER: I thought Jerry didn't want that couch, because of the stain?

(George waves at Kramer to shut the hell up.)

FRANK: What stain?

KRAMER: Oh, you didn't notice? It has a pee-stain.

(George bites his lip and shakes his head.)

FRANK: (disbelief) You had me sleeping on a pee-stained couch?

GEORGE: (light) No. No, no, no. The cushion was turned over.

FRANK: (anger) But, the very idea. you had me lying in urine!!

(George flashes Kramer an aggrieved look. There is a knock at the door.)

GEORGE: Ah! There's mom, there's mom.

(George races over and opens the door.)

ESTELLE: Is it safe to come in?

GEORGE: Oh, of course. (motioning Estelle to enter) Of course.

ESTELLE: You're not having any of your transvestite parties?

FRANK: Will you stop it?

ESTELLE: (to Kramer) I lived with him for forty years, I never saw him trying on my underwear. As soon as he leaves the house, he turns into J. Edgar Hoover!

(As Estelle speaks, Frank goes into the bedroom and brings out the record player.)

FRANK: Here, Cosmo...

KRAMER: Oh, hey.

FRANK: ...You can have the hi-fi. (hands it over) I don't need it now...

KRAMER: Awright, I got it.

FRANK: ...I got one at home.

(George is helping Frank on with his coat, a happy smile beaming from his face.)

ESTELLE: Alright, let's go.

(Kramer opens the door.)

FRANK: We'll go out for dinner tonight.

ESTELLE: I can't tonight, I'm busy.

FRANK: What d'you mean, busy?

ESTELLE: I'm having dinner with someone.

FRANK: With whom?

(George drapes the coat across Frank's shoulders.)

ESTELLE: Sid Farkus.

FRANK: (anger) Sid Farkus?! You're not having dinner with a bra salesman.

(George has picked up Frank's three suitcases, and is all ready to help carry them out to the car.)

ESTELLE: Hey, he only sells them. He doesn't wear 'em.

FRANK: Okay, that's it! I'm not coming home!

(Frank sits down in a chair. George's face drops.)

GEORGE: (upset) But you can't stay here. There's no place to sleep!

FRANK: We'll work something out.

(George drops the cases in disappointment.)

[Street]

(The German sightseeing bus comes to a halt at the kerb. Kramer comes around the corner, carrying the record player in his arms. An elderly woman, one of the witnesses to the 'mugging' of George, recognises Kramer as he passes. She climbs out of the bus and points after Kramer.)

GERMAN WOMAN: Stop him! Ja, ja, ja, it's him!

(Kramer looks back at the sound and sees the woman coming after him. He turns back and continues walking. The other German tourists get off the bus and join the woman as she follows Kramer.)

GERMAN WOMAN: Stop that man! It's him.

(Kramer looks worried and continues to carry his record player, pushing past bystanders as the tourists close on him.)

(Elaine comes back over to Jerry and the couch. Poppie spots her approach, and is not happy.)

POPPIE: It's you! It's you!

ELAINE: Wha...?

POPPIE: You! I... I gotta sit down!

(Poppie, aggravated, moves toward the couch.)

JERRY: No, Poppie! No!!

(Poppie sinks onto the couch, despite the pleas, and horrified expressions, of Jerry and Elaine.)

[George's Apartment]

(George sits up in bed reading a magazine. Frank enters, carrying a small bowl. George puts his magazine to one side, as Frank carefully climbs into bed whilst keeping hold of the bowl. George takes off his glasses, as Frank settles back. Picking up a spoon from the bowl Frank is about to eat, when a thought occurs. Carefully, Frank reaches over with the spoon, to offer George a taste.)

FRANK: Kasha?

(George looks disdainfully at the spoonful. A few morsels have fallen onto the bedclothes, George picks them up and puts them back into Frank's bowl.)

GEORGE: No. Thanks, dad.

(Wearily, George puts his glasses on the bedside table, and switches off his bedside lamp, bringing darkness to the room. George shuffles down beneath the bedclothes, to get comfortable, just as Frank switches on his bedside lamp. Exasperated, George lifts his pillow and places it over his own face, as Frank continues to eat his kasha.)